Monday, June 11, 2012
Strange how life comes round - "The House That Built Me' was 4 Pearl Hill Street. And now, my Mom, my precious brave Mom is in room #4 at a nursing home. Oh my, the road she has traveled to end up at this #4. 4 Pearl Hill gave us all life - and security - and family and love - how do we now create that for our Mom at this #4. We brought a few of her favorite Teddy bears, and her quilts, some pictures and a dream catcher to calm her nightmares - her favorite snacks and her comfy clothes. And of course, us.
Did I mention how teeny-tiny her 'space' is? It is really teeny-tiny. Just enough room for a single bed, a recliner chair and an end table. A far cry from 4 Pearl Hill Street and also from her lovely in-law apartment built on to my Sisters' house where she has lived for the past 10 years.
There is a shelf for the TV and she shares a closet with her room-mate Carmel, who, by the way, had an entire conversation with Skipp without her pants on - so she is a tad out of touch - as are so many that reside at this same facility. The wheel chairs lined up like a train - folks hollering - talking to themselves - one lady ordered bing cherries via a make believe phone for over an hour - just a handful! (then louder) - "JUST A HANDFUL OF BING CHERRIES!!!"
It is a small nursing facility - 45 beds. And all on one floor in a "+" shape. If any of you care to see it, you can google "Watrous Nursing Center" - Madison, CT. Trust me when I say the rooms are much smaller than the virtual tour promises. And so we go, as often as we can. My sister is just a few miles away so she goes twice a day. I am a bit further - and struggle with transport some days and navigating the hallways (damn MS), so I m going every other day for a few hours. I call every night to have the staff tell her I love her. (her cell phone is on order). I put on my best face and muster up my best good energy and 'lift her' spirit as much as is possible given the reality - breaks my heart to go, breaks my heart to leave. I feel guilty when I am home, relaxing in my lovely space while she is so confined. I have no idea what normal is any more - certainly not this. I imagine that in time we will get in to a rhythm and it will become more normal, well, more routine I guess.
I like to end on a positive note. We found out that once my Mom's Title 19 state insurance is approved she will be given $100.00 per month from the Veterans Administration because my Dad was a WW11 Vet. It is her money to do with as she pleases, no taxes, no questions, no one can take it from her. She said "my husband is still taking care of me" :-) I brought her his flag, in it's case that we have had since his military funeral to keep on her night stand..........I salute you Dad and love you. Love, your Gimpy-Gays (that is what he called me and some still do)
Posted by Gail at 9:22 PM